JUDICIAL FOLLIES - Yesterday Once More

The death a week ago of Linda Riss brought many news stories about one of the most notorious crime stories of the late 1950s, and its even more bizarre coda in the mid-1970s. But while her obituaries focused on one infamous trial that occupied part of her life, most obituaries -- including the one in the New York Times -- strangely ignored another foray she made into the court system.

In 1959, Riss was an attractive young woman who lived in New York City, but who was also sheltered and na?ve. At age 22, she began an affair with Burton Pugach, a married attorney ten years her senior. He promised to leave his wife for her, but kept coming up with excuses not to. Eventually, she broke off their affair.

In February, 1959 she began to receive threats from Pugach or his associates that, unless she returned to him, when Pugach "got through with" her no one else would want her. Riss reported these threats to the New York Police, but they said they could do nothing because he had committed no crime.

In June, 1959, Riss became engaged to another man. She received another call warning her it was her "last chance." She again called the police but was again rebuffed. The next day a thug hired by Pugach threw a bucket of lye into Linda's face. She was blinded in one eye and lost most of the vision in the other. Her face was scarred as well, but most of the damage was to her vision, and she eventually lost what vision was left.

For the next three and-a-half years, the police provided her with round-the-clock protection. Pugach went through various legal challenges to the criminal charges brought against him. It took two trials to convict him and was sentenced to a long stretch in prison. His appeals eventually reached the U.S. Supreme Court, where his conviction was upheld 7-2.

In the meantime (and part of her story the obituaries generally seemed to ignore) Riss sued the New York City for failing to protect her despite her requests for help. In 1968, the case reached New York's highest court, which ruled 6-1 that Linda had no case.

The court agreed with the city that, because anyone can become the victim of a crime at any time, local governments would essentially become "insurance companies of last resort." If every victim who had had time to call for help could sue the police when help failed to arrive, the potential liability would be staggering.

One judge dissented. He was upset that the majority had ignored virtually the entire story behind this case (the lead opinion never mentioned most of the facts of the case). He also attacked the majority opinion for ruling in effect that a "duty to everyone" meant a "duty to no one" if the police can't be sued for failing to help someone. "[N]o one who reads the record of Linda's ordeal can reach a conclusion other than that the City of New York .?.?. completely and negligently failed to fulfill this obligation to Linda."

Of course, this was in 1968, when no one knew about the astonishing next chapter in the case. After serving 14 years, Pugach was paroled in the mid-1970s. And then he promptly got married to .?.?. to Linda Riss.

Apparently, having had a number of years to think things over, Linda decided that even though he had been behind the attack that blinded her -- well, maybe he wasn't such a bad guy after all. Their marriage created quite a stir at the time, getting featured in People magazine. The continuing fascination with the case led to a 2007 documentary, "Crazy Love," which recounted their story and documented their ongoing .?.?. um, romance.

Indeed, when she died on January 22, after 38 years of marriage Linda's only survivor was Burton Pugach, who at 85 continued to profess his enduring love for her. And -- oh yes -- to deny that he was behind that 1959 attack.

Still, as bizarre as their situation was, one has to wonder how much more uproar there might have been if at least three of those judges who ignored the "tragic situation" had ruled that Linda was entitled to a sizeable judgment against the New York City. After all, when Pugach was paroled, he would have been supported by that very award.